July
by Amata le Fay
Summary: But July-she didn't fit into one category alone. Many have called her the quietest, but that was a lie. She could also be considered the kindest, or the smartest, but that wasn't it either. I guess you could say July was the strongest. DISCONTINUED
1. Overture: Information

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! For all of you (probably not many) who have read my other Annie fic, "Hard-Knock Life", and know that I was in Annie Junior as my own character "Alice", I have a surprise for you. By some strange twist of events, I ended up being July in the show. And, being the kind that likes to get into her character (even though the show's already over), I present **_**July**_**.**

**You will probably (if you actually care enough to read my other one) find that some things have changed. That's because of my dear director's blocking and direction. Also, some orphans will be mentioned that are not "originals." I have made a complete list below of my orphans (there are 12) and their ages, the starred ones being originally from Broadway.**

**It's Annie Junior we're dealing with. It's always Annie Junior.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own, or pretend to own, the musical **_**Annie**_** or any of its characters. I do, however own my characters.**

_**List of Orphans**_

*Annie (11) *Molly (6)

*July (12) *Pepper (12)

*Kate (7) *Duffy (13)

Rosie (11) Charlotte (9)

*Tessie (10) Alice (12)

Stephanie (10) Maddie (13)


	2. Prologue: Annie Warbucks, 1935

**Prologue (Annie Warbucks, 1935)**

Molly was the littlest, six years old. She was like a little sister to me.

Kate was the second-littlest, and also very lonely. Not as lonely and strange as Alice was, though.

Tessie, was the crybaby, the worrywart, her every other sentence being "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!"

Duffy was the biggest, the oldest.

Pepper was the toughest. Bully would actually be a better word, but nobody dared to call Pepper that.

Maddie was the shyest. Stephanie was the most restless. Rosie was the moodiest. Charlotte was the pickpocket.

But July--she didn't fit into one category alone. Many have called her the quietest, but that was a lie. She could also be considered the kindest, or the smartest, but that wasn't it either. I guess you could say July was the strongest. She'd been through a lot, perhaps more than anyone else. She was the one who would stand up for her thoughts and emotions.

I guess it's her turn now.


	3. Maybe: July, 1933

_**Maybe (July, 1933)**_

"Mama! Mama! Mommy!"

I opened my eyes slowly and began to lift my head from the pillow. Molly had woken up from a nightmare again.

'Shut up!" Pepper, with characteristic grumpiness, muttered, pulling the pillow out from under Molly and wrapping it around her head.

"Can't anybody get any sleep around here?" Duffy groaned.

"Mama! Mommy!" Molly cried frantically.

"I said, _shut your trap, Molly!_" Pepper abruptly got out of bed and pushed Molly to the floor.

I stood on top of my bed and shouted at her, "Hey! Stop shovin' the poor kid! She ain't doin' nuthin' to you!"

"She's keepin' me awake, _ain't she?_" Pepper growled.

"No," I started, jumping off of my cot to meet Pepper on her side of the room, "_you're_ keeping _us_ awake."

Pepper looked down at her shoulder, which I now realized my hand had slightly pushed back. _Oh no, July, what have you gotten yourself into this time?_ I said to myself. Pepper glanced back up at me, and I swear that murder (or something close to it) crossed her mind. "You wanna make somethin' out of it?" she snapped, ice-blue eyes glaring daggers into my brown ones.

I considered my options, then replied, "How 'bout I make a pancake outta _you_?"

Chaos then decided to break out, with the others crying "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and Alice rolling her eyes and Tessie murmuring "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness..."

Pepper took a step forward; I took a step back, but only for a moment, because I then stepped forward and _she_ stepped back. Neither of us made any advancement or retreat from that point on. The barest hint of a smirk twisted up the corner of her mouth, and I prepared myself to block an oncoming left-punch, Sure enough, she raised her arm and started to strike when--

"Pipe down!"

Annie, the eleven-year-old redhead who was the unofficial leader of us orphans, stood at the doorway. She had been up cleaning. "Pipe down, all of ya!"

The others grumbled and went back to their half-sleep. Pepper and I remained aloof.

"Go back to bed." Now Annie was staring directly at us, only a few feet away. Our glare broke, and we both departed—I directly to my bed, and Pepper with a roundabout route to her bed that made sure to bump Annie's shoulder and give her an excuse to glare some more.

Annie sat on the edge of Molly and Pepper's cot and helped the six-year-old up to her feet. Molly told the older girl, choking with sobs, about her bad dream, and Annie soothed her. And then came the inevitable.

"Annie...read me your note."

We all knew the words on the note practically by heart, Annie had read it so many times. It was probably the only thing she knew how to read. But still Annie read it anyway.

"Here it comes again," Pepper groaned.

"Please take care of our little darling," Annie began. "Her name is Annie."

"She was born on October 28th," Kate mocked. "We'll be back to get her soon!"

"We have left half a silver locket around her neck and kept the other half--" Pepper taunted, whirling herself around to look at Annie and grab onto the old, broken locket.

"--so that when we come back for her--" That was Duffy.

"--you'll know that she's--" Rosie.

"--_our baby,_" the four of them finished, giggling.

"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, now they're laughing!" Tessie shouted, and promptly ran back to her cot and pulled the blanket over her head. Tessie overreacted a lot.

"All right," Annie growled, snatching the precious locket back from Pepper's grasp, "do you wanna sleep with your teeth inside your mouth or _out!_" That got them moving (they had crowded around Annie's bed.)

After they had all gone back to bed (and a staredown from Pepper), Molly turned to Annie. "Gee, I dream about having a mother and father again. But you're lucky. You really got 'em."

"I know. Somewhere." Annie closed her eyes, and Molly leaned her head on the redhead's shoulder. "Maybe far away," she began, "or maybe real nearby, he may be pourin' her coffee, she may be straight'ning his tie. Maybe in a house all hidden by a hill--"

"She's sittin' playin' piano," Molly dreamed happily.

"He's sittin' payin' a bill!" Tessie imagined. So like Tessie to imagine that her parents were as worrisome as she was over bills and things.

"Betcha they're young," Maddie murmured.

"Betcha they're smart," Rosie muttered.

"Bet they collect things--" I started.

"Like ashtrays and art!" Duffy finished.

"Betcha they're good," Kate mused.

"Why shouldn't they be?" Pepper, much to the surprise of everyone, finished.

"Their one mistake," everyone decided, "was givin' up me!"

"So maybe now it's time, and maybe when I wake," Annie concluded."They'll be there callin' me baby—maybe?" we added.

Slowly we drifted back to half-sleep. Annie left Molly and went over to our bed, tucking herself in. I could hear faint strains of "Betcha he reads. Betcha she sews. Maybe she's made me a closet of clothes! Maybe they're strict, as straight as a line. Well, don't really care, as long as they're mine," she whispered. "So, maybe now this prayer's the last one of it's kind. Won't you please come get your baby?"

"Maybe," I murmured. Apparently, everyone else had the same thought.

Maybe—one day.

**Author's Note: This is sort of a two-part chapter, one being "Maybe" and one being "Hard-Knock Life" and the rest. I originally wanted it to be one chapter, but it would be way too long. Just to let you know.**


	4. Hard Knock Life: July, 1933

_**Hard-Knock Life (July, 1933)**_

I was drifting in and out of a half-dream, vague images swirling their way in and out of my head fleetingly when the light flashed in my eyes. _What is it?_ I murmured to myself. I opened my eyes slowly, rubbed them—and where Annie should be there was nothing. _Oh, no. Not again._

"Now what?' Pepper's voice snapped as she rolled out of bed in the corner of my eye.

"Annie? Whatta ya doin'?" Kate asked.

"Running away," Annie replied.

"Oh. My. Goodness." (Three guesses as to who that might be.)

"My folks are never coming for me. I gotta go find them," the girl said firmly.

"Annie, you're crazy," I said, catching her arm. It never worked, trying to talk sense into her, but the least I could do was try. "Miss Hannigan'll catch you."

"And give you the paddle," Tessie added.

"I don't care. I'm getting out of here." Annie tugged her arm out of my grasp and picked up her flashlight. "Okay, I'm ready. Wish me luck."

"Good luck, Annie," we all murmured, knowing full well what Annie's attempts to escape entailed. The small group scampered off, all except for Pepper, who stayed behind long enough to scoff, "So long, _dumbbell._ And...good luck." Her features softened—it was one of the rare moments where Pepper was sincerely caring about someone, if only for a fleeting moment.

I tossed and turned around in the now half-empty bed. I _knew_ what would happen to her, we had all tried to run away at one time or another, and all suffered the same fate—capture and cleaning. Annie was frequently trying to run off. _She_ knew what has bound to happen, somewhere in the back of her brain, but hoped anyway. Her optimism was one of her strongest traits, but it was also a weakness. It pretty much allowed her to refuse to think logically.

Thuds and crashes sounded in my ears, and someone being flung to the floor. I tried to ignore them as long as I could until--

"Everybody, get up! Get up! _Get u-u-u-u-up!_" Miss Hannigan screeched. We immediately jumped out of bed and ran to our line-up in front of the cots. "Now," she said, grinning evilly like a wicked witch. "For_ this_ one's shenanigans--" She pointed, all all of our heads swiveled towards Annie, who rolled her eyes, "--you're all going to get down on your _knobby little knees_ and _clean_ this dump till it shines _like the top of the Chrysler Building!_"

Tessie quickly stepped up and tapped Miss Hannigan on the shoulder. She turned towards the frightened girl, who started to cry. "B-but it's four o'clock in the morning!" she burst out.

Miss Hannigan smiled and put her hand under Tessie's chin mock-lovingly, then grabbed her cheeks and growled, "Get to work!"

"Yes, Miss Hannigan," we chorused.

"NOW!" We grabbed our buckets and rags and set to work. I could hear Miss Hannigan murmuring, "Why any kid would want to be an _orphan_, I'll never know!"

I rolled my eyes. Once she was safely out of sight, we started complaining, as we usually do. "It's the hard-knock life for us! It's the hard-knock life for us!"

"'Steada treated--" Annie started.

"We get tricked!"

"'Steada kisses--"

"We get kicked1 It's the hard-knock life!" We slammed our buckets down full force onto the poor floor. "Got no folks to speak of, so, it's the hard-knock row we how!"

"Cotton blankets--"

"'Steada wool!"

"Empty bellies--"

"'Steada full! It's the hard-knock life!"

"Don't it feel like the wind is always howlin'?' Annie asked us as she cleared the buckets.

"Don't it seem like there's never any light?" Kate and Tessie complained.

"Once a day, don't you wanna throw the towel in?' I murmured, more to myself than anyone, but Pepper and Molly admitted, "It's easier than puttin' up a fight."

"No one's there when your dreams at night get creepy!" Annie shouted.

"No one cares if you grow or if you shrink!" Molly added.

"No one dries when your eyes get red and weepy," Tessie moaned.

"From the crying you would think this place'd sink! Ohh!" We started marching around the room, like little soldiers in Miss Hannigan's army. "Empty belly life! Rotten smelly life! Full-of-sorrow life! No tomorrow life!"

"Santa Claus we never see," Molly confided to Annie.

"'Santa Claus'?" Pepper demanded, pushing Molly aside. "What's that? Who's he?"

"No one cares for you a smidge when you're in an orphanage! It's the hard-knock life!" We started to continue cleaning, but Molly stood up on her bed and yelled, "You'll stay up till this dump shines like the top of the Chrysler Building!" in an attempt to liven things up.

It worked. We chased Molly around the room and threw her in the laundry basket. It was kind of fun, actually.

"It's the Hard-Knock Life!"

"Good morning, children," Miss Hannigan burst into the room, whistle at the ready.

We pulled away from the basket. "Good morning, Miss Hannigan."

She waited a few seconds before demanding, "Well?"

"I love you, Miss Hannigan," we chorused.

A muffled " I love you, Miss Hannigan" came from the laundry basket, and Molly popped out!

"_You! _What are you doin' in there?"

"Nothin'."

Miss Hannigan turned to me. "Get her out of there." I rushed over to the basket and helped the little girl, who was desperately trying to suppress a giggle (and failing). "Shhh, Molly. You almost got us in trouble," I whispered. Her expression turned guilty.

Miss hannigan turned Molly to face her and growled, "Your days are _numbered_." The whistle blew. "All right. Breakfast."

"Hot mush? Yuck," I said to myself. Apparently, I also said it aloud. But luckily nobody else could keep shut either.

"No, not hot mush." I gasp-sighed in delight, but a quick glance towards Alice told me that I was sadly mistaken. Indeed, Miss Hannigan soon after said, "Cold mush." We groaned. "And after your mush, you'll go straight to your sewing machines. There's an order of dresses to finish, even if you have to work _straight through midnight._"

"Yes, Miss Hannigan."

The whistle blew. "Now _line up!_"

We ran to our line as Bundles McCloskey entered. "Laundry! Laundry man!"

"Morning, Bundles."

"Mornin' kids. Clean sheets once a month, whether you need 'em or not." He looked around, smiling. Then he caught sight of Miss Hannigan. "Hey hey hey, Aggie. How's the prettiest gal south of 14th street?" I rolled my eyes as I watched them flirt. Pathetic, especially since the orphanage was _north_ of 14th street.

Rosie placed her hand on my shoulder and diverted my attention to Annie climbing into the laundry basket. She had hatched an idea, and it might actually work.

"Oh Bundles, get outta here with that laundry!" Miss Hannigan said in a girlish voice.

I wheeled the basket over to Bundles, whispering to Annie, "Good luck."

"Back at you, July Summer-Month."

I guess that needs explanation. About a month ago, Annie had decided she would give us all last names—except for herself, of course, because she had one, somewhere—and mine was "Summer-month." Pepper's was "Salt," by the way.

It was nice know a friend was gonna be okay for a while.

"So long, gorgeous—and Merry Christmas!" Bundles rolled the laundry—and Annie—out.

"Huh, you call this clean, Annie," Miss Hannigan said, inspecting the floors after Bundles had gone. "This place is like a _pigsty_—Annie? Annie?' She searched around for the missing brat.

"Annie ain't here," we chorused.

"_W-What do you mean, 'Annie ain't here'?_" Miss Hannigan demanded.

"She just left with _Mr. Bundles,_" Tessie taunted.

"In the laundry basket," Molly added.

"B-B-Bundles?" Miss Hannigan stood in utter shock for a few seconds before screeching "_Police! Police!_", blowing her whistle, and running out.

"No more hard-knock life for Annie!" I shouted as soon as she had gone. "Lucky duck, she got away!"

"But we're gonna have to pay," Molly told me sadly.

"Gonna get our faces slapped!" Tessie and Kate groaned.

"Gonna get our knuckles rapped!" Duffy and Pepper sat down on their beds and sighed.

"It's the hard-knock life, it's the hard-knock life—IT'S THE HARD-KNOCK LIFE!"


	5. Got No Folks to Speak of, So: Ward, 1927

_**Got No Folks to Speak Of, So... (Officer Ward, March 1927)**_

I looked down at the little trembling girl. I didn't like this, not at all.

_The poor kid. Parents sick for months and she's alone, and then one day she wakes up and they're dead from the flu,_ I thought to myself.

"Ward, get on with it!" The gruff voice from the back office yelled. I glanced back at the girl. She's a little thing—six years old, at most, and tiny for that. She's got these big brown eyes that're lookin' up at me, worried and expectant; and two dark brown ponytails of hair that go a bit past her shoulders. Her dress isn't fancy, but isn't poor-lookin' either.

"So..." I started. Oh, sure, I'd had to tell a kid they're an orphan before, but it's always hard. Seein' them cry and all.

"Where are my parents?" she asked, for pretty much the fifth time today.

"Well, July—it is July, right?" The kid nodded. "Well, July...you know that for the past couple months, your parents have been sick?"

"With the flu," July supplied. "In-flu-en-za." She pronounced it slowly and carefully, like she was still trying to get the taste of the word into her mouth.

"Clever girl," I muttered. "Well, they—your parents—they're dead from that flu, and you're an orphan now."

"Dead." She rolled it around in her head. "Orphan."

"'Dead' means they ain't alive no more—they're not gonna be on this earth to take care of you," I explained.

"I know what 'dead' means," she snapped. "But what's an 'orphan'?"

"It's a kid that's got no folks."

"I got folks. Mom and Dad," she said firmly.

"No, July," I said. "Your parents are dead, remember."

"Yeah," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean I haven't still got 'em."

"Okay," I replied, revising the definition. "An orphan is a kid whose parents are dead and not here to take care of 'em."

"Oh." The little girl hung her head, and I saw a tear or two trickle down from her big brown eyes. "So where do I go now?"

"Well," I started, "generally an orphan will go to a special house called an orphanage, where they live with other orphans and an adult that runs the place."

"Okay," July muttered. I thought I saw her choking back tears, the poor kid.

"So..." Runnin' back around in circles to the beginning of the conversation. "You wanna get goin' now, or wait a bit?"

"Goin' where? To the orphanage?" July asked.

"Well, yeah." I always hated this part of my job.

The little girl looked around. "Well, now, I guess, if you don't mind, Officer."

I nodded. "Municipal Girls' Orphanage it is, then." I had brought other orphans there before, and I knew that Miss Hannigan was a nice lady. From the few times I'd met her.

I led the kid out of the police building and into the backseat of my car. She was quiet all the drive—not unusual for someone who's just been told they can never see their parents again. Stupid me, I tried to talk to her.

"So, July—that's such a pretty name, July. Seventh month of the year."

"Yeah, I guess it is."

"A fitting name for such a sunny girl like you."

"Not really."

"Why not? I certainly think it's fitting."

I imagine July was raising a little eyebrow back there while saying, "Well, I ain't so sunny and happy right now, am I?"

I chose another question, "So, what do you like to do?"

"What do you mean?" the girl replied.

"For fun. What do you like to do?"

"Is this question really all that important?" the six-year-old quipped.

"Uh..." I decided to to change the subject again. "Did you play a musical instrument?"

"Why do you say 'did'? It makes no sense," she pointed out. "And no, I do not play a musical instrument. Why are you questioning me?"

I wisely shut my trap at that moment and focused on driving to the orphanage. I stopped the car as we reached the gray building. I helped the sullen-looking girl out of the car and rang the doorbell.

Miss Hannigan stepped out onto the stoop. Her orange-red hair was a mess and she was still wearing her blue bathrobe, as if she had just gotten up. She looked very frazzled, almost as if she were...drunk? No, not Miss Hannigan. She blinked, and then said sweetly, "Hello, Officer."

"Good morning, Miss Hannigan," I replied. "I have a new orphan that I need to entrust in your care." I pushed July forward. "Her name's July. Her parents died of influenza last night."

"Oh, poor thing!" Miss Hannigan cried. I glanced at July, who was staring at Miss Hannigan coldly. "Thank you, Officer," she said with a sweet smile.

"No, I must thank you. It's very nice of you to take in all of these orphans," I insisted.

"My—pleasure." I heard some strain in her voice at that, and her fist flexed. She then sighed sweetly, and said, "Come on, July, let's find you a bed." She led the girl—who was still glaring—inside and closed the door.


	6. Memories in the Cards: July, 1933 1930

**Author's Note: Hi, sorry I'm really late on posting this. I had a lot on my mind, and when I came back to Fanfiction, I realized I was primarily going to be a reader of it instead of a writer. I do, however, want to continue on this story, and make it my sole Fanfiction project. From now on, it's going to be mainly flashbacks of July's, with little real-life intros.**

**(But I must warn you, it's going to go REALLY slowly. Months in-between chapters, probably. So I don't blame you if you abandon it.)**

**And thank you, thank you, thank you for the reviews, all of you! Oh, and as a side note, I based this off of my school's recent production of Annie Junior. **

**I think this story needs a disclaimer-refreshing: I do not own _Annie_ at all.**

_**Memories in the Cards (July, 1933...1930)**_

A smirk spread across Duffy's face as she carefully drew out a card from her hand and slapped it down. "There. A King's higher than your queen."

"No it isn't, you idiot! Your King's a heart, mine was a diamond. Play somethin' else."

"A minute ago you yourself said that a King's and King and a Queen's a Queen, and there ain't nothin' regarding the suits that can change it," I protested.

Pepper snorted, and her eyes flickered toward me for a brief second. "You stay outta this, July."

I backed off. When Pepper growled, nothin' good ever comes out of one who defies that growl. Especially when it comes to her cards.

It was a few years ago when Rooster Hannigan had visited the orphanage. He had a sleazy, sly manner and a waxed, crooked smile which frightened most of us. Charlotte, however, saw no harm in siftin' through his pockets to see if he had anything worth keeping. That's when she had discovered the cards.

"Look what I got from Hannigan's brother!" She ran into the dormitory with a triumphant smile, waving the deck of small rectangular pictures around and spilling some of them on the floor.

Annie slid off the cot she was sitting on and picked a few of them up. "What are they, Char?"

Charlotte shrugged. "Some kinda pocket pictures, I think. They're very pretty. Here's one of two red hearts. Wonder why he keeps them around."

"Those aren't pictures, you idiot," Pepper said, rolling her eyes and snatching the card out of her hand. "They're playing cards."

"Playing cards?" she returned, interested.

"For gamblin', and things like that. If you win, you get to keep money or whatever the other person bet. You lose, you lose money or whatever you bet. It's pretty easy."

"You know how to play?" Maddie asked.

"Sure, a little." She carried the deck over to her cot and spread them out. "Ace, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Jack, Queen, King. Suits—that's the picture on the top, like the red heart—go in the order Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, Spades. You put down a card and the next person tries to get a card higher than it down. When a person plays the highest card and the other person can't go higher with their hand or the next draw, they lose. It's easy, if you know how." She gathered all of the cards into a neat little stack and put it under her pillow.

"Those were mine," Charlotte protested. "I took 'em, fair and square, so I get to keep 'em."

"Well, tough luck. I claim 'em, since I taught you all how to play," Pepper declared, leaning back with a haughty look.

"What right have you got to it?" I demanded.

"Give one good reason, or they're Char's," Annie added. "Since she's the one who got 'em for the first place."

"I said, I taught you all how to play. Someday, maybe you can win 'em from me, Char, but not today," Pepper retorted, glaring with her icy eyes. "Stop being annoying."

We returned to our cots to stare into space some more. I glanced at Pepper, who had taken out the deck again and was starin' at this one card with a sad smile.

"Pepper?" I asked. "Who taught you how to play?"

"Shut up, July!" she returned with a groan. "Don't you ever know just when to shut up?"

"You cheated!" Pepper was screaming at top volume.

"Did not!" Duffy argued. "You're just a sore loser!" I sighed. Arguments with Pepper never went well, didn't Duffy know that?

Pepper gave her one of her famous glares. "You wanna fight over it?" she growled.

"Yeah, I'll fight'cha for it!" Duffy truly believed that, because she was older, she could control Pepper. _Bad move, Duffy,_ I thought.

"Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" we all started.

A "_SHUT UP!_" came from the office. I almost laughed at the irony.


End file.
